


actions speak louder than words

by kinneyb



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-24
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:35:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23297905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinneyb/pseuds/kinneyb
Summary: Jaskier did not mention his birthday to Geralt - honestly, he didn’t think he cared - so he was shocked, truly, when Geralt shoved a gift in his lap on the morning of his birthday. It was sloppily wrapped with parchment and a ribbon.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 782





	actions speak louder than words

**Author's Note:**

> im very happy with how this turned out actually :o
> 
> twitter: queermight / tumblr: korrmin

Jaskier did not mention his birthday to Geralt - honestly, he didn’t think he cared - so he was shocked, truly, when Geralt shoved a gift in his lap on the morning of his birthday. It was sloppily wrapped with parchment and a ribbon.

He was still half-asleep and his brain was working slowly. “Uh, what?”

Geralt stood by the foot of the bed, arms folded over his chest, “Your birthday,” he said gruffly. He almost looked embarrassed. Jaskier thought he was surely seeing things, or still dreaming. He rubbed his eyes, pinched his arm.

But Geralt was still there, still staring at him expectantly, and there was still the heavy weight of a gift in his lap. Unexpected heavy, actually, now that he paid attention to it.

“Um. You - you actually got me a gift?” he asked, still not over it.

Geralt frowned, “I did.”

“I - I didn’t even know you knew it was my birthday,” he continued, fingering the ribbon on the gift. It was crudely wrapped around the present.

Geralt sat on the bed, “You mentioned it, once, while you were drunk,” he said with a hint of amusement.

That explained a lot, actually. Jaskier peered down at the gift and lifted it. “It’s heavy.” He squinted at him. “Did you put rocks in it, Geralt?” It was a fair question; Geralt could be surprisingly childish.

Geralt sighed heavily, “I did not - ” he said, slowly “ - put fucking _rocks_ in your present, Jaskier.”

He nodded, believing him. “Okay.” Geralt arched an eyebrow, and he placed the gift back in his lap. “Right, I should probably open it.”

Geralt did not reply, as he was ought to do, and so Jaskier pulled on the ribbon. It was a dark ribbon, almost black, and contrasted starkly against the parchment. He hesitated with his hands hovering over the gift.

“Well?” he prompted impatiently.

Jaskier peered up at Geralt; he looked oddly excited as he waited for Jaskier to open the gift. He was warmed with a sudden appreciation for the other man; he was bluntly honest, and messy, but he was also kind and caring, in his own special ways.

Looking back down, he pushed the parchment out of the way with his hands. He didn’t know what he was looking at: it was some kind of fabric (?) folded up with a dagger on top of it. He picked up the dagger; it was pretty, surprisingly, with a silver handle with blue stones in it. He traced one of the stones with his finger.

“It’s silver,” he explained.

Jaskier nodded and looked up, an amused quirk to his lips, “And the stones - Do they do anything?”

Geralt reached up and scratched his cheek, looking unexpectedly sheepish. “Uh, no,” he answered, clearing his throat. “I just thought you would think it was…” he trailed off, shrugging helplessly. Jaskier smiled sweetly.

“ _Pretty_?” he suggested for him, and he nodded curtly. “Well, I do,” he assured him. “But I can’t say I’ll be the best at using it,” he admitted after a beat. “I’ve never been much of a fighter.”

He had certainly fought, once or twice, but it was usually drunken brawls in taverns, not beasts.

“I can teach you a few things,” he said, almost too fast. “Just some of the basics. If you want.”

Jaskier smiled. “Okay.” He placed the dagger on the bed before returning to the rest of the gift. He pulled the fabric - it was thick, and hard - out of the parchment. He realized what it was without needing an explanation: it was armor, and not the cheap kind. He lowered it and peered at Geralt. “Can you afford this?” he asked, “And how - how did you know my measurements?”

Geralt squared his shoulders, “I can,” he said, but Jaskier assumed he was probably lying: armor wasn’t cheap, and witchers didn’t get _those_ many jobs. “And, well.” His eyes flickered down. “I asked your tailor for your measurements.”

“You - you asked my - ” he repeated in disbelief, slowly grinning. “Geralt, did you go into the city without _telling_ me?” he asked, light and teasing, as he stretched out on the bed and jostled him with his foot. “Bad boy,” he added, eyes twinkling.

Geralt swatted at his foot, “I _did it,_ ” he said sternly, “because you need to be safe if you’re going to keep following me around like a lost pup, okay?”

“Is that _permission_ to keep following you around like a lost pup?” he asked brightly.

Geralt rolled his eyes, but Jaskier was not deterred: he had just bought him _armor_ , and a fucking _dagger_. His insults would no longer hold the same weight; he _cared_ about him, the big oaf. “You will do what you want,” he answered after a moment. “I just don’t want you getting killed on our travels - ”

“ _Our_ ,” he parroted, waggling his eyebrows and grinning like a fool. Geralt swatted his foot again, harder.

“Shut up before I punch you,” he snarled, and Jaskier laughed wildly, holding the armor up to his chest.

“Go ahead,” he singsonged, “I have _armor_ now; you can’t hurt me.”

Geralt arched an eyebrow, “Want to bet?”

Jaskier lowered the armor, patting it. “I do not, actually,” he said, because he was certain, even through layers and layers of armor, Geralt could still pack a punch.

“Hmm,” he replied, eyes alight with amusement.

Jaskier gently moved the armor out of his lap and crawled down the bed, on hands and knees, to kneel in front of Geralt. Geralt eyed him uncertainly. Biting his bottom lip, he braved the storm and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. Geralt stiffened for the briefest of seconds before he relaxed and wrapped his arms around Jaskier’s back.

For a moment, they were silent.

Finally, Jaskier pulled back. “Okay. Ready?”

Geralt arched an eyebrow and tilted his head, “Ready for what?”

“Oh,” Jaskier grinned like a shark. “Just wait.”

He jumped off the bed and grabbed the armor, pausing when he realized he didn’t know what the fuck to do. There were _so many_ straps, and it was different from Geralt’s armor, which he had helped take on and off on a few occasions.

Geralt climbed off the bed and stood behind him. “Here,” he said gruffly.

Jaskier handed him the armor and lifted his arms when instructed to; the armor was heavy on his shoulders, and snug around his chest. Finished, Geralt stepped back and Jaskier spun on his heels. “What do you think?”

“Hmm,” he said, eyeing him up and down. Jaskier suddenly felt exposed, which was silly; this was the most covered he had ever been. “I’m glad,” he said. “I was afraid your tailor had given me the wrong measurements.”

Jaskier smiled. “Thank you, Geralt,” he said. “This was very - ” he struggled for the right word “ - _thoughtful_.” But it was also so much more than that. Geralt didn’t do stuff like this very often. He was a kind man, Jaskier knew that, but he didn’t go _out_ of his way to do stuff like this, _unnecessary_ things _._

“I want you to be safe,” Geralt said, gruff and rough with emotion.

Jaskier smiled again, softer. He stepped up and put his hands on Geralt’s shoulders. “Thank you,” he repeated, because he didn’t know what else to say.

Geralt smiled back, just the barest hint of teeth. “All this effort is wasted - ” he patted Jaskier’s chest “ - if you do not _think_ before you act. Understand?”

“Yes, yes,” he answered, rolling his eyes. “I understand, you big oaf. Just hug me again, would ya?”

Geralt huffed out a laugh and wrapped his arms around Jaskier again, tugging him into a hug that nearly crushed his ribs - and yet Jaskier was the happiest he’d ever been.


End file.
